


And The Fool of The Day is...

by Word_Devourer



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: April Fools' Day, Clusterfluff, Crack-ish, Definitely noncanonical, F/M, Rated T for memorizing what someone looks like with their shirt off, The new genre I just made up to describe fluff trying to survive in an absolute fiasco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-01 07:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18331388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Word_Devourer/pseuds/Word_Devourer
Summary: Ladybug knows, for a fact, that Chat Noir is the kind of person to pull an April Fools' Day prank, so it's no surprise that he sent a fake reveal photo to the Ladyblog.Frankly, it's not a surprise that it's shirtless, either.No, the real surprise is that he somehow got Adrien Agreste to pose for a picture.The other real surprise is for Chat Noir; That Ladybug somehow knows what he looks like, detransformed, with his shirt off.Mysteries abound, truly.





	1. A Familiar... Torso?

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by local tumblr user and fancy penguin gale-of-the-nomads, with expert addition by spaceybird.  
> The original post can be found below.  
> https://gale-of-the-nomads.tumblr.com/post/183889691035/ml-crack-idea

The first of April, and Marinette, or, for the current purposes, _Ladybug,_ had expected some kind of joke from her partner.  Chat Noir, the boy who had never taken anything seriously in his _life…_ Well, not more than a few percent, anyway, simply _couldn’t,_ _possibly_ pass up on the chance to make some kind of joke. Last year, he’d alluded to his plans, but he’d been put off by their fight with ‘The April Fool,’ an Akuma with… Well, that was in the past. Suffice to say, he’d had enough of pranks and lies for the day after that fight.

Today, though, when they saw each other, he had no such compunctions, which meant-

“So, milady, I had an idea.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Something to do with the fact that it’s April Fools’ day?”

He gasped, over-the-top affrontedly, but she could just make out a trace of actual disappointment in his expression.

She smiled.  “You can’t think I’d forget about a day like this, when I work with _you,_ can you?”

“How _dare_ you!  This is an entirely serious plan!”

“Plan?”

“Well…” he said, “I simply thought I’d…” he flicked up his baton, “make a submission to the Ladyblog.”

“A submission,” she said, deadpan.

He nodded, grinning.  “Exactly.  The kind that I sent in… Oh, 30 minutes ago?”

“What kind of submission,” she said.

“Oh… Nothing special… Just me out of my suit.”

Any other day, she would have checked to make sure he was joking.  Today, she didn’t feel the need.

“An April Fools identity reveal?”

“Of course!  But this one… It’s real.”  He winked.  “And a bit saucy, too.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Really.”

“Really!  The kind where I would have been embarrassed to leave my face in!”

She frowned, just _barely._   _He’d kept his face out of it?_

That sounded like…  No, surely he wasn’t _that_ crazy…

“Chat Noir, what exactly did you do?”

He was still grinning. “Relax, it’s not _that_ risqué.  Just… Shirtless.  I kept my pants on.”  He winked. “But don’t worry, that’s _more_ than enough.”

Silence.

“No?  Nothing.  Come on, Ladybug, you’re making me feel like all my hard work isn’t even _worth_ it.  What’s the _point_ of an April Fools’ joke if you don’t even get a rise out of someone?”

“There isn’t one,” she replied, flicking a finger across her yo-yo; sure enough, Alya was quick on the draw, “but you should already know I’m not exactly going to go crazy at the sight of you shirtless, I’m not-“

She stopped.

“What?” said Chat Noir.

She stared.

“Struck dumb by my raw attraction?” he said, with an unnecessarily cheesy grin that she didn’t see.

The picture was shirtless, yes, with a Chat Noir-esque pose, and the face was indeed out of frame (or, well, covered by a cartoon cat face), but…

For a second, she couldn’t place it and then, as the memory hit, she felt her face go red.

“Ooo!” he said, “Now _that’s_ a compliment.  Don’t worry, I’d be more than happy to recreate it any time you-“

“Well,” she said, cutting him off as she straightened up, “I appreciate the work you put in, and I don’t know _how_ you got this picture, but we both know it’s not one of you.”

He stopped dead.

“What?”

She looked over at him. “The build’s almost right, but I’m pretty sure you just looked up ‘Parisian shirtless teenage model,’ and picked the first option that looked right.”

He blinked at her, mouthing the words she’d just said.

“Because _that,_ ” she said, jabbing her finger at the screen, “is Adrien Agreste, and trust me, Chat Noir, even if you’ve got the same hair, you’re not fooling anyone.  Well… You’re not fooling me, at least.”

Chat Noir stared at her, face unreadable.  His mouth moved silently.

“How do you know what Adrien Agreste looks like shirtless?”

She recoiled, face turning bright red.  “He did a photoshoot once where he happened to have his shirt off!”

Chat Noir seemed to have matched the motion whole body leaning in closer.

“Once… Three months ago.  How, exactly, do you recognize it well enough to say that that’s him from a cursory inspection?” His voice managed to ooze both curious and suggestive.

She turned away, trying to put a disinterested expression on her face and failing miserably.  “I have a good memory for appearances!”

She didn’t see his mouth open in a delighted grin, but something of it came through in his voice. “My _lady,_ do you have a _crush_ on him!?”

“ _Chat Noir,_ ” she said, spinning around and coming towards him, _“if you don’t shut your mouth right now—”_ her finger jabbed into his collar.

She froze, and he stopped moving as well, hands up, still wearing the grin.

“I wouldn’t think you’d be so excited about the idea,” she said, pulling back.

“Oh- Well, maybe… Maybe I’m not,” he said, sounding not at all sincere, “but…  I _am_ surprised to discover that your secret little crush is a _celebrity_ crush.  Let me guess,” he said, eyebrows wiggling, “you think he’s cute?”

She scoffed, “So _what_ if I do?  A person can be cute and still have other good qualities!”

“Such as…?”

She bristled. ”That is none of your business, and frankly, I’m ashamed of you for pushing the subject like this!”

She turned away, and strutted over to the edge of the roof.

There was a long moment of silence.

“But what if…” said Chat Noir, and she could hear the oily smile.  “What if I’m _going_ somewhere with this?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Where could you possibly be going with this that would make it worthwhile.”

“You never asked how I got the picture.”

She looked up, staring stonefaced into the distance.

“See, I know him pretty well.”

“You would _hope_ so, if you sent in a shirtless photo of him to a popular blog.”

“What if I told you what I know… that Adrien would _love_ to talk to you?  That he thinks you’re… Pretty cool.  Like… _Really_ cool…  What if I told you that _you_ were _his_ celebrity crush?”

He had to be lying, but that didn’t matter to the part of her that processed things before she asked that question.  She was pretty sure her _ears_ were red now, so the fact that she was facing away really wasn’t doing any favors.

She turned to face him.

“You expect me to believe that someone as cool as Adrien would be friends with you?”

“To answer that, I’d tell you to look in the mirror.”

She was beyond blushing further, but that _had_ been a good line.

“And why are you telling me this?  Don’t you… Didn’t you…”  She couldn’t quite complete the thought.  For all he was comfortable teasing her over _her_ crush, _his_ actually _involved_ her…  _Was_ her.

He met her gaze steadily. “That was before you told me your secret crush was Adrien Agreste.  If that’s so, then… Well, suffice to say he thinks the world of you, and if you like him, I’m _certainly_ not going to stand in your way.”

“You’re… Friends with him, then?”

Chat Noir shrugged.  “Put it this way, I can arrange for his window to be open at… Oh, call it 7:30.”

 _Lying.  A cruel joke._ Out of pure spite, she managed to keep her voice steady.  “ _As, if_.”

He grinned.  “Well, I’d be happy to prove it, if you like.”

“This is an April Fools’ joke,” she said, “this is Chat Noir being quick-thinking, isn’t it.”

He stared back at her for a second, confused.  Then, his expression went oddly gentle.  “I swear to you.  It’s not. 7:30.”

She realized she’d already lost this fight.  He had her over a barrel, and even if it _was_ April Fools…  “If this is a prank…” she said, hoping her expression conveyed the rest.

“Prank isn’t the right word.”  Then, it was Chat Noir again, as he winked. “I’d say… It’s a date.”


	2. Like The Earbuds In Your Pocket (Wires Crossed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is getting psyched, and there's no telling whether that's psyched up, or psyched out.  
> Actually, there is, and it's both.
> 
> And then, Alya has the audacity to call in.

Marinette’s fingers tapped frantically on her desk.

It was 6:45, and she had _no clue_ what she was supposed to do.

It had to be a prank, right?  She should just have contacted Chat Noir, and told him to tell her again tomorrow; _god,_ that was the obvious answer!  She just needed to…

And how was she supposed to contact Chat Noir?  She didn’t know who he really was, or even if he actually knew Adrien.  She tried a reverse-image-search, but the image was already plastered across what must have been 30 different websites, and if there was an original source, _she_ couldn’t find it.

He… No, Chat Noir, even for the funniest gag he could find, wouldn’t have taken a picture of someone, shirtless, without their consent.  Besides, the pose had been just so…  It had to have been his idea, right?

She could… Tell Adrien to get her in touch with Chat Noir, but-

 _No, no, no!_   If she did that, either she’d go as Ladybug which would just be… Her arriving early, or she’d do it as Marinette, and if Chat Noir had been serious, there was no _possible_ way he could miss it.  Adrien would _know_ about her crush, and-

Her brain practically short-circuited as she realized that, if this was real, he _did_ know.  He just didn’t know that Ladybug was his classmate _Marinette._

She stared into the distance, which in this case was the wall 2 feet away.

“Tikki?” She said, “Thoughts?”

Tikki flitted over from where she’d been quietly letting Marinette panic her way through the situation, eating a cookie.

“About what?” she said, brightly.

 _“This?_   I mean… He must be joking, right?  He _has_ to be.  This is just another joke, like one of his puns.  I’m going to get there, and he’s going to be waiting to laugh at me for being gullible, _and then Adrien’s going to notice, and he’s going to make fun of me, too, and I’ll never live it down and I’ll have to stop being LadybugbecauseIcan’tpossiblykeepdoingthisifAdrienthinksI’masmuchofalaughingstockasI’mgoingtobeafterthisTikkiI’mdeadandIcan’tevennotgobecause what if he’s_ not joking!  What if he’s serious?  What am I going to do when I get there, I mean, it helps to be Ladybug, but I’m going to keep stammering and then he’s going to realize that I’m Marinette because I also can’t stop stammering as Marinette around him and then that’s going to be worse and I’ll have to stop being Ladybug butIwon’tbeabletoescapeseeinghimandI’llhavetodropoutofschoolordealwithAdrienthinkingI’majokeand-

“Marinette!” shouted Tikki for the fifth time.

 _“WHAT!?”_   She said, staring at her Kwami, wild-eyed.

Tikki was smiling gently.

“You’ve known Chat Noir for a year, now.  You know how much he cares about you, and how difficult liking someone can be.  Do you really think he’d do something like that?”

Marinette stopped dead.

Her breathing slowed.

She closed her eyes, worrying slightly at her lip.

Finally, she sighed.

“No,” she said, “he wouldn’t.”

“And you’ve known Adrien for a year,” said Tikki, now with the light of laughter in her eyes, “do you really think he’ll realize you’re Marinette, if he didn’t realize that you liked him?”

“Not unless I do something _really_ stupid,” said Marinette, smiling now.

“And isn’t this kind of what you wanted?”

“I mean… Yeah,” she said, not quite _feeling_ the answer she knew to be true.

“Then isn’t this a _good_ thing?”

She sighed.  “It is… I’m just… Anxious!”

Tikki giggled.  “You’re always anxious, Marinette.”

“I know.  You think I’d be good at dealing with it by now.”

Okay.

Okay.

She could _do_ this.  She faced down _supervillains._   She faced down _Chloe!_   She’d faced them _all_ down, and Adrien didn’t even _dislike_ her!  In fact-

She was jolted out of the process of psyching herself up as her phone rang.

She blinked, and looked down.

Caller ID said-

“Hello?” she said.

 _“Marinette,”_ came Alya’s voice, and Marinette realized what this had to be about.

“Alya?” she said.

“Have you seen, the most recent, Ladyblog update.”

“The one where Chat Noir sent in an ‘identity reveal,’ picture?”

 _“Yes._   I would have called you sooner, but I’m here with Nino and neither of us has been able to muster the presence of mind.”

“Didn’t…  Didn’t you post that almost an hour ago?”

 _“Yes!_   He _clearly_ works out!” Marinette heard Nino offering his agreement in the background.  “Like… That pose!?  Those, like, kind-of-abs?  The cat over his face?  _Whoof!_ ”

Marinette was on the verge of telling them that it was actually Adrien, but… If she did that, there would be too many awkward questions, wouldn’t there.  The same questions she had, actually.  Alya would probably assume they were _actually_ the same person, and… No.  Adrien didn’t deserve that.

The downside, of course, was that she wouldn’t get to hear Alya’s reaction, _or_ Nino’s, if she told them-

“-to Marinette.  Earth to Marinette, come in Marinette.”

“What?” she said.

“I was _saying,_ ” said Alya, “that I’m in a committed relationship with Nino, but, like, if Chat Noir came up to me, like, shirtless, and posed like that—” Nino’s voice came from the background, “—Nino and I are in agreement on this one, I guess, the point is…” Alya trailed off.

_The boy she was supposed to be ‘going on a date with’ in just over half an hour._

The words didn’t process through her mind.  _“Yeah, well hands off, he’s mine.”_

 _“WHAT!?”_ cut back Alya’s voice, obliterating any hope Marinette had had of letting that statement stay out of earshot, where it belonged.

She put the phone back to her ear, “I…  Uhhhh…”

_“What?  What’d she say?”_

“She said,” said Alya, audible a bit away from the speaker, “ _Hands off, he’s mine!”_

 _“Yoooo,”_ Nino’s next words came from much closer, “Dude, did you not tell us something?”

“I think she’s getting a _second_ crush,” said Alya, audibly waggling her eyebrows.

She’d already decided not to share her Torso Revelation, which meant she was utterly out of options unless she thought of something _fast._

“Girl!  Spill!  What’s the deal with you and Chat Noir!?”

Marinette ended the call, and brought the phone down, an expression of blank shock on her face.

“Marinette?” said Tikki, visibly concerned.

“Uhh…”  Marinette stared into the distance, this time the much further view through her window.

“Marinette…?”

“We are… Leaving early.  Spots on.”

“Marinette, what are you-“  Tikki didn’t get a chance to finish as she was sucked into the earrings.

 _Yes,_ she would arrive far ahead of schedule.  _Yes,_ she had done the most suspicious thing possible in the circumstances.  And _yes,_ she was cutting herself off from her friends in the most-

Her phone rang, and she blinked.

Right.  She’d put it down on her desk without thinking.

Caller ID… Alya.  Who’d have thought.

She stood up from her desk, and walked to the ladder.

Then…

She looked back.

Ah…

She already felt like she should be checking, but…

She grabbed the phone.

A few quick taps, and it was on vibrate.

She found a handy spot at her belt and jammed the phone in it.

 _There._   Done.  Handled.  No longer an issue.

 _Now._   She had somewhere to be, in… Half an hour.  But!  She was going there now!  And to hell with the consequences!


	3. Adrien Panics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, like, Adrien panics. It's like, half the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say. He's panicking.

His bedroom door was locked, his schedule was completed for the day, everything was perfect, he even had the window already open, just so he couldn’t _possibly_ forget.

What could possibly go wrong?

…

Him.

Obviously

He could…

He pushed down the feelings.

He wasn’t going to mess things up.  He wasn’t going to do _anything_ like that.  He was going to wait here for Ladybug, and she was going to be happy to see him, and they would…

They would what?

_They would what?_

_THEY WOULD WHAT!?_

_Talk!?  Just… Sit there, and talk, and be like, ‘oh hi, I like you,’ ‘I like you too,’ CONVERSATION OVER!_

He had done 0 preparation for this, if he disregarded his daydreams, and in his daydreams he’d been Chat Noir, and talking to Ladybug as Chat Noir was _not_ the same as talking to Ladybug as Adrien!  He _knew_ that.  Why had he never prepared for this option?  He’d even had the _chance_ to talk to her!  He knew it was an option, so why-

He paced, back and forth, frantically trying to figure out how much Chat Noir he should channel.  All of it?  Could he even choose how much to channel?  Did he channel Chat Noir, or suppress Adrien!? _Why had he never asked any of these questions before?_

What if-

He froze.

Ladybug had recognized him.  Recognized Adrien.  What if she had already known who he was, and was using April Fools’ Day as a chance to prank _him!_

He shuddered.

She was smart; he knew that.  It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that she was playing him like a fiddle!  No!  Like a kazoo!  A triangle!  An MP3 player!

At this rate, he was _going_ to find out what Cataclysm did to a person, and that person was going to be _him._

He had maybe 40 minutes, if she got delayed, and in the meantime-

“Chat Noir?”

He froze.

And…  Right.  He’d planned to meet her as Chat Noir and then swap out, before realizing what an awful idea it had been and _forgetting to change back._

Forget Sandboy, _this_ was a nightmare.  He was half expecting Nathalie to walk into the room.

He spun around, a manic grin on his face.

“Hey, Ladybug,” he said, “I was just explaining to Adrien about things!”

She blinked.  “Oh.  And… Where is he?”

“He is…” he said, eyes sliding to the side.  “In the bathroom!  I’ll go get him for you!”

“Wait, Chat Noir!  If he’s in the bathroom, shouldn’t you-“

The door rattled with the force of his entry.

“Hey Adrien!” he said, closing it behind him.

He half expected a response, before remembering that _he_ was Adrien.

“Well!” he said, “You’d better get in there and say hi.”  Then, so quietly it couldn’t have possibly been audible, _“Claws in.”_

“Ah…  Adrien?” came Ladybug’s voice from the door.

He laughed, nervously, “I’ll be out in a second, I’m just…  Washing my hands.”  He quickly turned on the faucet.

 _“Plagg,”_ he hissed, _“What do I do!?”_

Plagg stared him dead in the eye.  Slowly, a wide grin spread across his face.  Then, he shrugged, with an ‘I don’t know what to tell you,’ manner.

_“C’mon Plagg, I need help, I can’t-_

Plagg was already lazily floating away.

_“I’ll give you extra Camembert, extra extra!  I can-_

Plagg seemed to have found something that amused him more than cheese, for the moment.

Adrien finished washing his shaking hands.

He took the deepest breath he could manage, and straightened up.

Well, the worst thing that could happen was that…  His mind trailed the thought off, leaving only whispers of terror.

The worst thing that could happen _really_ wasn’t worth considering.

He pushed open the bathroom door, desperately hoping his expression didn’t still look manic.

“Good evening,” he said.

She chuckled, sounding almost nervous herself.  “Good evening.”  She looked past him.  “Is Chat Noir still…”

“He… Left.”

“Oh.”

“Window.”

She nodded.

_Nice monosyllabic response, Agreste.  Real Boyfriend materi-_

He practically choked.

Right.

This wasn’t just Ladybug.

This was Ladybug.

In his room.

Supposedly with a celebrity crush on him.

On what by all accounts was probably a date.

“So…” she said, scratching lightly at her cheek.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Ah,” she said, seemingly surprised by the answer.

“Oh, um…  Sorry, that, sounded a bit… Brusque?”

She giggled.  “No, not that, it’s just… I… Honestly thought Chat Noir might have been messing with me.”

 _Messing with her, as if- “_ I would never—" he froze, “—Ascribe that kind of thing to him.  He doesn’t seem like the type.”

“I…  Yeah, I know,” she said, “I realized that before I came here but, honestly, it’s hard to convince yourself of that, you know?”

He let out a breath.  “Yeah.  I know what you mean.”

They stood in silence for a second.

He heard a buzz, and Ladybug grimaced.

He gave her a look, and she shook her head.

“My phone,” she said, “I forgot to have it on me when I transformed, and I didn’t want to leave it on my desk, so…”

“In your belt?” he said, spotting the extra spot of black sticking out.

She nodded.

“But it’s nothing urgent.  Or… Nothing I don’t want to put off a bit longer.”

“Ah…  Okay,” he said.

They stood in silence another second.

“So…” said Adrien, “Do you want to… Sit down?”

“Sure,” she said, clearly as eager as he was to find a way out of the awkward position they both seemed to be in.

They sat down fairly distant from each other, on the sofa.

“Well…” said Adrien, “I guess… You’re here.”

Ladybug laughed, a bit nervous.  “Guess I am.”

“I… Of all the things I’d expected today, you, in my room, like… Like _this,_ isn’t something I expected.”

“Well… I could say the same thing.  You know… Chat Noir has a crush on me?”

“Heh.  Yeah… Yeah, I know about that.  I think all of Paris knows about it, actually.”

“I guess they do,” she said, as her phone buzzed again.  “I… I’m honestly surprised he’d send me here, like that.  Play matchmaker, you know?  I’m not sure, if… Well, I guess if our positions had been… Reversed?  Not reversed, but… You know what I mean; if it had different.  I don’t know if I’d have been able to do that.”

“Huh.”  Adrien didn’t know if _he_ would have been able to do it, if it had been what it _looked_ like.  “Well… Chat Noir’s… A friend of mine.”

“He said he knew you well.  Obviously, I can’t ask too much about _how,_ but… I’m glad you two get along.”

“Thanks,” he said.

They sat in silence a moment longer.  The breeze blew in, and he shivered.

“Ah!” She said, jumping to her feet, “I forgot, April, and you don’t have a Miraculous making sure you don’t get cold.  Sorry, I should have closed the door before I came in.  Or, you know, the window.”

“It’s no problem!” he said, also standing up “I should have closed it myself before I-“

Their hands both hit as they grabbed the handle for the window.

“Ah-

“Uh-

They froze, and, neither looking at the window, pulled it closed.

Though neither knew it, it was in unison that they looked away.

“Heh,” laughed Adrien, audibly nervous.

“So…  Back to… Back to the couch?”

“Y- Yeah.  Sure.”

They sat down, now much further from each other.

Adrien’s fingers tapped idly on the edge of the couch.

Ladybug’s phone buzzed again.

_Absolutely smashing, perfect start, bravo, slow-clap inducing._

_Wow._

What had he expected?


	4. Genre: Clusterfluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That is now the official genre of this fic. A cross of fluff, and a cluster****.  
> Plenty of fluff, of course, but it's also an absolute madhouse in here.

“So…” she said,

“Yeah…”

“Well… I guess… This is, kind of, a blind… Date?”

She couldn’t believe the words had left her mouth.  Word.  Date.  Her.  Him.  _Date._

“I mean… I guess… You’re here because I’m…” he went silent.

“My…” She said.

“Celebrity?  Celebrity…”

They went silent again.

“And… I’m… Apparently…”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence again.

“So…” she said.  “Do you… Have any idea what you’re supposed to do when you meet your celebrity… person.  And they also…  You know.”

He chuckled, nerves evident.  “No clue.  If this was, like, a movie, or a cartoon, there’d be, like, some kind of slow motion, and I’d probably say, ‘I—” He cut off.  “Of course…  This isn’t a cartoon, or… A movie.”

“Yeah…  They never bring up the fact that even if you… And another person… Feel…  Well…  It doesn’t make it easier to know that they wouldn’t… Mind.”

“Right.”

“I mean… Maybe if I try to forget that I have any idea who you are…” she said, looking over at him, half pained, half hopeful.

He shrugged, giving her his best smile.

She let out a long, slow breath, and stood.

\--

She turned, and, practically sleepwalking, stepped over until she was in front of him.

Her eyes opened, but they were still unfocused.  Expressionless.

Her hand reached out slowly.  “A pleasure to meet you, I’m sure.”

The smile spread slowly across his face as she pulled him upright.

“Well…” she said, standing so close to him he could almost feel his arms bumping into her.  “I guess… We’re close enough…”

“Yeah…”

Her eyes slowly focused back on him.

She looked at him.

“I feel like…” she said, and stopped.  She blushed.  “I feel like I’m supposed to kiss you now.”

“Heh,” he said.  “Do you… Want to?”

There was a helpless look on her face.  “Do you _want_ me to?”

He laughed back.  “I…  I have no idea.  I’ve imagined this happening.  I just…”

“Never thought it would be this awkward?” she said, face cracking into a smile as incredulous as his.

“Exactly!”

“Well…  Even if we’re not on one of the fun pages… At least we’re on the same one, right?” she said.

“Right,” he said, and… leaned forward.

Not… _That_ kind of forward, of course.

His cheek came to rest on the top of her head, and his arm lightly slipped around her back… The arm that whose hand wasn’t clasped to hers from when she’d pulled him up, that was.

She seemed surprised, but after a second, returned the gesture.  Well… Except for the fact that the side of her head was in his chest.

“Well…” she said, “That’s not so bad.”

He hummed in assent.  “No.  No it’s not.”

And then, matching the buzz of his voice, there was _another_ buzz.

He felt Ladybug’s face wrinkle in displeasure.  It tickled, slightly.

“Sounds like whoever it is, they _really_ need to get in touch with you,” he said.  “You’d probably better make sure it’s not an Akuma loose or something.”

“Oh trust me,” she said, pulling away, _“It’s not.”_

“Well,” he said, “They’re pretty frantic to talk to you.  You’d probably better answer anyway.”

“Yeah…” she said.  “I’m just going to—” she nodded to a further area in the room.

He nodded back, and sat down as she pulled up the phone to her ear.

\--

“Hello?” she said.

“About time!” came Alya’s voice, exasperated.  “Girl, if you hadn’t called soon, I’d’ve had your parents check your room, make sure you hadn’t been snatched up by Chat Noir!”

 _“Alya, don’t—”_ She froze.  A glance back confirmed that Adrien had recognized the name.  “Don’t talk about that.  Trust me, that’s not even a thing.”

“And how exactly do you expect me to believe that? _‘Hands off, he’s mine’?’”_ Fantastic.  Just fantastic.  Alya was in a journalistic mood.

 _“Yeah, pretty hard to believe,”_ came Nino’s voice from the background.  _“So she’s okay?”_

“Yeah,” said Alya, “seems like.”

 _“Sweet,”_ said Nino.

“ _Now._ ” Came Alya’s voice, all business again.  Her heart sank.  “Let’s _talk._ ”

“Yeah, sure, right, why not.”

“Girl, you better _explain,_ because lemme tell you, it’s gonna be a _lot_ easier.  Like, I’m cool with you think Chat Noir’s cute.  He _is._   Like, you’re not getting any ‘no’s from this side, right?  But what’s with ‘he’s mine.’  Since _when,_ since _why,_ since _how?”_

There was a jingle from behind her.

She spun, and… “Hey dude!” said Adrien, picking up his phone.

 _“Hey, dude,”_ came Nino’s voice from the background, and her heart practically _died._

She, Ladybug, was answering a phone, _as Ladybug,_ when Alya, the person on the other end, thought she was Marinette, and _had a crush on Chat Noir,_ when in fact she simply knew that an image of ‘Chat Noir,’ was actually Adrien, and she couldn’t explain herself because that would make it look like Chat Noir was Adrien, and anyway, as if that wasn’t enough, Adrien, whose _room_ she was in, knew that it was _Alya_ on the other end, because she’d been _stupid,_ and to make matters worse, now _Adrien_ was on the phone with Nino, who was _next_ to Alya, which meant that if Adrien wasn’t _completely_ unquestioning about things, he’d realize Alya was there, and then ask about how she knew Ladybug’s number, which she _didn’t_ , and subsequently discover that _Alya_ thought she was on the phone with _Marinette,_ and because _he_ knew that she was on the phone with Ladybug, _she_ was going to lose her identity in potentially less than a minute and there was literally _nothing_ she could do to stop it.

She was definitely going to die at this rate.

_Rest in **pieces** , Ladybug, the universe and your own lack of caution conspired to kill you._

Okay.  Okay.  There was a _chance,_ and what was the point of being lucky if you couldn’t…

Wait.

Wait.

“-so you’d better believe I’m going to go sniffing for _all_ of your secrets, and you’d better believe I’ll be more thorough this time,” finish Alya.

“Ah.  Right.  Yeah.  I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.

She pulled the phone from her ear.

 _“Lucky Charm?”_ she whispered, with the air of one giving the last answer they’d come up with to a problem.

Adrien looked up in visible surprise as the item dropped from the sky.

She pulled the phone back to her ear, as she hastily tried to parse what the charm had given her.

A small red, rough item, with a familiar shape.

“So?  Do you want me to start throwing out ideas?  I can do that?”

 _“A fortune cookie?”_ she said.

“Yeah, trust me, my odds are a bit better than that,” said Alya, as she cracked it open.

The words were small.  She squinted.

“Well,” she said, “I might be able to answer some of it, but if I do that-

_-Drop.  Immediately.-_

Her eyes widened, and for an instant, she recognized the sound of the door unlocking.

She spun, and saw Adrien meeting her eye, urgent, but apparently unwilling to interrupt her.

She dropped.

 _-I’ll have to explain some other stuff, too,”_ she muttered, as a man’s voice, dry and devoid of emotion came from the door.

“Adrien.”

“Father?  Nathalie?  What are you doing here?”

 


	5. A Story of Almost Exactly 5 Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug's mind is spewing expletives at this point, but she has to keep her head if she's to have a chance at making out of this with any of her secrets intact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug is now living in hell.

Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, _no._

This was fine.

This, was fine, Ladybug thought determinedly as she hid behind a couch that _really_ didn’t do much to hide her from view, from one of the most powerful people in her industry of choice, and his assistant, _both_ _of who were extremely scary simply on their own merits._

No.

She was a superhero.  She was… Agile, fast…  In a darkened room.

She could do this.

“Sit down,” said Gabriel Agreste.

“Well?” came Alya’s voice, continuing the conversation she was frankly having trouble recalling.

Uh… _Stuff she’d have to explain, right._

Her eyes widened as she realized that ‘sit down,’ meant on the _sofa she was hiding behind._

Gabriel Agreste’s head was momentarily in sight as she, _buggishly_ , in fairness, skittered away, slipping under the pool table.  Foosball table?  It was foosball, right?

 _“Well,”_ she whispered, “The first thing is…”

“There are some questions I have regarding Ladybug,” came Gabriel Agreste’s voice.

“…Ladybug,” she finished.

_“Ladybug!?”_

“I- No!  No,” she managed to keep her voice quiet.  “Sorry, I…  I got distracted.”

“-do you mean, father?”

“Well what did you mean?”

“She’s come to your defense unexpectedly often.”

“Well,” Ladybug managed, over trying to keep her mind on the correct conversation, “It’s actually about Chat Noir.”

“Nathalie, turn on the lights.  It’s unacceptably dark.”

“Go on…”

Ladybug realized that while the dark covered her, she was still technically in his line of sight.  When the lights went on…

“One second,” she said, and backed softly away, on all fours.

She could see Nathalie approaching the switch.

She only had an instant-

No time to check if she was truly out of sight.

She bolted.

The lights came on _just_ before she could make it to the stairs.

She froze, mentally cursing.

“Girl, if you don’t-

“Quiet!” she hissed.

Footsteps.

Approaching.

That was Nathalie; she was sure of it.

On the other side of the stairs, she paused.

“Nathalie?” came Gabriel’s voice.

Nathalie looked behind the stairs.

Nothing was there.

She turned away, shaking her head.

“Apologies, sir, I thought I saw something.”

Ladybug, pressed against a loop of the stairs above where Nathalie could see, away from Gabriel Agreste, let out a half sigh of relief.

“Explain.”

She had to force herself not to try peeking out.

“I believe the fact that we were talking about Ladybug gave me the impression I saw her, sir.”

Eyes wide, she tried to flatten herself down futher.

“I see.”

“A momentarily trick of the eyes, sir.”

“Very well.  Now, Adrien.”

“Yes Father?”

“Okay,” she said, almost silently, to Alya.

“Girl, what are you doing over there?  It sounds like you’re trying to do an obstacle course without waking anybody up.”

“Aha,” she said.

“ _Wait,”_ said Alya.  “Chat Noir… Is he… There, right now?  Is he _in your house?”_

“No!”

_“Girl, you have five seconds to convince me you’re not canoodling with Chat Noir right now and trying to stay quiet enough your parents don’t wake up.”_

_“Canoodling!?”_

She could hear the eyebrows moving.

_“Hey!  No shame in it.  Nino and I can both attest to that fact.”_

_“Yes I get it you’re together,”_ she hissed, deciding to risk peeking above the line.

“If your actions so consistently put you in that much danger, perhaps they should be restricted further,” said Gabriel.  He wasn’t looking.  Nathalie wasn’t in sight.

“Father!”

“And, five seconds are up.”

She bolted up the rest of the steps, coming to rest in front of the bookshelves.

_“Alya!  Listen, just because I’m trying to keep quiet doesn’t mean I’m… That!”_

_“Mhm.  Well, the Marinette I know would drop just about anything to deny it if it wasn’t true.”_

“Agreste’s do not believe in ‘luck,’ said Gabriel Agreste, “for all she has her ‘Lucky Charm.’”

“Even _bad_ luck?” said Adrien.

“Well, _this_ Marinette,” she managed, “is trying to tell you that that picture wasn’t of Chat Noir.”

Alya scoffed.  “ _Really.  The picture of the boy doing the Chat Noir pose, with the Chat Noir build, in a very Chat Noir state of not wearing a shirt, sent in by Chat Noir, wasn’t Chat Noir.”_

_“Yes!”_

_“You do get how crazy that sounds, right?”_

_“Of course I do, but I know he’s not, because he’s Adrien Agreste.”_

The other end of the line went dead silent.

“And _do_ you have any kind of romantic intentions towards her?” came Gabriel’s voice, as calmly as if he was updating his son’s schedule.

 _“What!?”_ said Adrien, in the same tone Ladybug _wanted_ to use.

“Nathalie.  The pictures.”

“ _Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir!?”_ Came Alya’s voice from the other end.

“No!  That’s what I’m trying to tell you!”

“Listen.  I accept that if _anybody_ could tell that a body is Adrien Agreste’s, without even seeing the head, it’s you.  I _saw_ you taking peeks at the pics from that shoot he did in February.  What I _won’t_ accept is that, as I said, _the picture of the boy doing the Chat Noir pose-_

Marinette tuned out the rest.  Alya was just going to repeat the whole thing.

“The entirety of Paris saw them.  You can’t imagine _I_ would miss them.”

“I know, father.”

“Then explain.”

“I…  We’ve only met a few times!  She’s just an acquaintance!  A friend!”

She got the sudden, and visceral sensation of déjà vu.

“-unequivocally will _not_ accept is that _that same boy,_ is not _really_ Chat Noir.”

“Ah yes.  Just a friend.  In the same way as you describe Ms. Dupain-Cheng from your school as just a friend, despite the fact that you clearly hold her in impressive esteem and… Nathalie?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well you’d better,” she hissed.

“This is the same girl you gave your umbrella to.  The tabloids maintain she is your girlfriend.  You snuck out with her.  You take every opportunity to promote her good name—”

“As well you might,” interrupted Gabriel, “there is every reason to believe her expected career in fashion will be long and successful.”

“—Indeed,” said Nathalie, unaware that Ladybug’s heart had been unable to avoid jumping at both statments.  “Furthermore, you spent the majority of a weekend in London scouring the area for… Constipation medication, on her behalf.  For her own part, the notes she recently delivered, themselves a gesture, featured a note where she drew herself, blowing a kiss.  Your ‘lucky charm,’ bracelet, _her autograph,_ a scarf, and _numerous_ invitations to-

“Scarf?”

Dead silence.

“There better be a localized lightning storm, or an Akuma attack, or _something,”_ came Alya’s voice, “because this is just ridiculous.”

“ _Nathalie,”_ came Gabriel’s voice, clearly displeased.

“You mean the one I got for my birthday!?”

She managed to haul her attention back to Alya.  “Yeah… Well, anyway, he’s not Chat Noir.”

 _“He not Chat Noir,”_ parroted Alya sarcastically. _“Look, you’ve gotta pick.  Either the picture’s of him, and he’s Chat Noir, or it’s not of him, and he’s not.”_

“ _Why would he send in a real reveal picture on April Fools’ Day!?”_

_“Because who’s going to believe it’s real?  And who’s even going to recognize it?”_

“You!  And me!?”

 _“This is a discussion for another day,”_ said Gabriel, with utter finality.

“Yes sir.”

“No!  You told me it was from him!  Did you… Did you just forget my birthday?”

“Of course not!  I am, however, too busy to… go _shopping.”_

“-so where’s it from?  And trust me, if the answer to that question is ‘I don’t know,’ you’ve pretty much torpedoed yourself.”

 _The picture._ “It might be from the… Unaccepted pictures from some other shoot.”

“Right.  What’s he modeling?  _Not having a shirt?_   You don’t exactly see much in the way of pants.”

“Jewelry?  I don’t know.  Maybe he’s friends with Chat Noir.”

“Yeah, right, if that was the case, Nino would already have gotten an autograph out of the equation.”

“Maybe he doesn’t talk about that, because of, I don’t know, _secret identities?_ ”

“We will continue this discussion tomorrow.”

“Yeah, or maybe you should stop being so blinded by Adrien’s abs and soft demeanor that you miss the fact that _he’s Chat Noir!_   I swear, I _told_ you they look the same, and don’t get started on ‘but they act so different!’  If Chloe can make a half decent superhero in a pinch, then Adrien can let loose and be Chat Noir!  Now, I am going to grill you _so_ hard on what happened tomorrow, but, if you’ll excuse me, I can’t trust myself to be quiet when I’m talking about this, and I _cannot_ risk my siblings waking up because I’m shouting.”

The door closed.

The phone shut off.

…

She blinked at the ceiling.

Her earrings, utterly ignored in the past five minutes, beeped frantically.

Adrien’s voice drifted up from below.

“Ladybug?”

There was a flare of light.

Lying on her back in the balcony, Marinette, (not even Ladybug, _Marinette)_ struggled not to cry at how utterly out of control this day had gone..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Approximately 6k words in one night.  
> It's 1:40, and now I'm going to bed.


	6. Uneasy Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is a mess.  
> The best anyone can hope is that tomorrow is a new day.

It was a miracle in itself that she wasn’t actively _hyperventilating._

Lying on her back, detransformed, she began to get the impression that this might have been a mistake.

There was every chance that Adrien was Chat Noir, which, in itself was mind-boggling, and even if he _wasn’t_ , _how was she supposed to get out of here?_

“Tikki?” she said.

Tikki flitted into her line of sight.

She looked around as if to say, ‘Any ideas?’

Tikki shrugged, seeming just as helpless as _she_ was.

“Okay,” she said, aloud.  “I need to get transformed again, as soon as possible.”  She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to remember what was in her bag; she could try rooting around, but she didn’t think she’d remembered to pack something for Tikki.

Surely there was something she could use.

\--

Adrien’s head thudded against the door.

Fantastic.

Just… Fantastic.

His first date with Ladybug (and his last, at this rate) had not only been interrupted by his father, but-

He sighed.

He’d almost lost what little freedom he’d _had,_ outright been accused of both a relationship with Ladybug, _and Marinette…_ Neither of which he wanted his father believing.  With Marinette, it wasn’t true, and with Ladybug… Well, she _really_ didn’t need to interact with his father, either.

And then the scarf…

Well, that had just been the cherry on top.

This night was a disaster.  An _absolute_ disaster.

And… That was Ladybug’s voice coming from above, wasn’t it?

He grimaced.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she was saying, but…

“…even before everything _else_ happened.  Face it, Tikki, it’s _hopeless._ ”

“The night’s not over yet!”  The voice was quiet, but high-pitched enough that it still reached him.

“Right, and what if he comes up the stairs?”  Her voice dropped low, but not so low he couldn’t hear it.  _“We both know that Marinette isn’t exactly girlfriend material for him.”_

Adrien froze.  _‘Marinette,’_ like… Like _that_ Marinette?

“You’re being uncharitable to yourself!”

 _“Am I, Tikki?”_ She groaned, “That’s not even _thinking_ about what it means if Alya’s right.  What if he really _is_ Chat Noir?”

Adrien swore internally.  Ever since she’d recognized what he looked like, he’d been amazed that her first assumption had been ‘good friends’ and not ‘same person.’  It looked like that wasn’t something he could rely on anymore.

“Ladybug?” he said.  He could almost hear her stop dead.

“Adrien?”

“Are you… Okay, up there?”

“Fine!” she said, a few notches too high.  “I’m just waiting for my Kwami to be ready to transform me again.”

“Oh.  Right, I forgot, you used your Lucky Charm.”

“Yeah.”

“I guess you brought something to feed her?”

A nervous laugh.  “Actually… It’s not her favorite, but the Lucky Charm was a fortune cookie.  She’ll be a little sick when I get home, but… It’ll do, for now.”

“I… See…” he said.  “So… I guess that means you need to go home?”

“I… I think so.  Sorry, I guess I’m cutting things kind of short.”

“I don’t blame you!  After all that, I’d be glad to go home too, except…”

“Except this is your home,” she finished.

“Yeah.”

Awkwardly, without any real certainty what he’s supposed to be doing, Adrien just sort of, stood there until finally, after an interminable time of silence, he heard Ladybug above him again.

“Ready?”

“Mhm!”

“Alright.  Tikki?  Spots on.”

He shivered as she transformed above him.  She was so close to him, just… _Her,_ not even ‘Ladybug.’

But now…

She jumped down, let out a quiet sigh, and walked towards the window.

“Ah, Ladybug!” he said, stepping up behind her.

She turned, and just as sharply as he’d realized she was just another person, he realized that he was once again speaking to _Ladybug._   As Chat Noir, he could begin to imagine he measured up to her, but as Adrien…

He looked down.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “About… tonight.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said.  “Just, bad luck.”

“Hm,” he said, the sound a bare imitation of a laugh.

And… What.  Was he supposed to ask if she was coming back?  Ever?

Maybe if you had to ask, it just meant no…

There was a gentle pressure on his shoulder, and then-

A single kiss on his forehead.

He looked up, but the window was already open, and…

She was gone.

…

He pulled the window shut.

He sat down on the couch.

A long silence.

“Plagg?” he said, finally, “I know you can hear me.”

“Yup,” said Plagg, from right beside him.

He looked over, and sighed.  “You couldn’t have offered _some_ kind of advice?”

Plagg gave him an inscrutable look, and then looked away.

“I didn’t think it was gonna go _that_ badly.”

“Come on… I was panicking.”

There was a long silence.

“Sorry,” muttered Plagg.

Adrien looked over.

Plagg’s ears have drooped, slightly, his expression clearly displeased.

Adrien sighed.

“Well…” he said, “that wasn’t really the problem, anyway.  The problem was… Everything.”

Plagg nods, silently.  “I heard.”

“And, _and,_ ” he said, “even after all of that, none of it was the craziest part!  The _craziest_ part was…  She called herself ‘Marinette!’  Like… Like the Marinette I go to school with!”

Plagg gave a noncommittal grunt, and Adrien remembered that he already _knew_ who she was.

“The problem is,” he said, “there’ve got to be… I don’t know, hundreds of ‘Marinettes,’ right?  For all I know…” he shook his head.  “Anyway.”

Plagg gave him a curious look, and then shrugged.  “Can’t help you.”

“I know.  The thing is… I _know_ Marinette, and… She’s got a lot in common with Ladybug.  A _lot._ ”

“Mhm,” said Plagg.

“But the one thing that gets me…” he shakes his head.  “What did she say?  ‘Marinette isn’t girlfriend material for him?’  I just… I don’t know.  The Marinette _I_ know knows her value.  There’s no way she’d think that… That I’d turn her down, just for being Marinette, right?  That’s… That would be _ridiculous!”_

“But… Then again… Everything else matches.  Everything matches _too well._   Surely…” he shakes his head.  “I’ll see her in class tomorrow.  Maybe I’ll be able to figure things out then.”

\--

One bad day, and everything was falling apart.  There really was _no telling_ what could happen, was there.

As Marinette collapsed onto her bed, her thoughts wouldn’t stop racing.

What did he know?  What did _she_ know?

Okay… He… Might have heard her saying her name.  He had _probably_ heard her suggest that he was Chat Noir.

And she… The question rested uneasily on her mind.  Was Adrien Agreste really Chat Noir?

He couldn’t be.

Except, how could he _not_ be?

Chat Noir had barged into the bathroom, and there hadn’t even been a word exchanged.

That didn’t sound like a good friend, that sounded like a switch.

She took a long, slow breath.

She needed to think about this carefully.

It wasn’t their appearance that bothered her.  They could have been brothers, or… Well, cousins, for that matter; didn’t Adrien have a cousin?

They certainly looked alike enough.

Then, if that wasn’t it…

It was how they acted.

How was she supposed to reconcile Chat Noir’s terrible puns and over-the-top declarations of love with… What she’d seen that day in the rain?

And how was she supposed to reconcile Adrien, too polite to ask for food in a house he was a guest at, with Chat Noir, leaning deep into someone’s personal space to snag another chouquette?

And the way they spoke, it was like… Chat Noir was older, almost, voice more grating, more… Well, more like his kwami, really.

Could she imagine Adrien taunting a villain to come a bit closer?

Then again, could she imagine herself doing… Just about anything she did as Ladybug?

No.

No, she couldn’t.

She wanted to ask Tikki, but Tikki was obligated to keep that secret.

So was _she_ , for that matter.

She lay back, still in her clothes from earlier, and slowly, mind chasing itself like a dog chasing its own tail, fell asleep.

\--

It had been too busy a night.  Too busy by far.

He laid back in his bed.

It felt as if he’d been drained of his emotions.

The kiss on his forehead, which should have left him warm, barely seemed like anything.

The scarf, which should have left him outraged, seemed almost unimportant.

Even the thought that Marinette might be, probably _was,_ Ladybug, awakened only mild curiosity in him.

It felt like his emotions had been left in a pile, like so much dirty laundry.

He fell asleep, knowing, as he did so, that he wasn’t going to wake up feeling rested.

\--

Neither of them slept well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least... Tomorrow might be a better day.


	7. Dead Fish?  Possibly an Overstatement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette are for related reasons, not in the best of moods.  
> Today will certainly be an interesting one.

When Marinette woke up, it felt as if she’d had a fever; she was lying in her bed, the blanket only barely touching her.  It probably didn’t help that she’d fallen asleep with her daily clothes on.

She sat up, feeling, as she did so, like today was going to be a long day.

Well… There was nothing for it, was there?

“C’mon, Tikki,” she said, “I can grab you something to eat on the way out.”

Tikki, less than graceful this morning, nodded, and followed her.

\--

When Adrien woke up, it was to the sound of his alarm going off for the second time.

What he _wanted_ to do was _let_ it ring.  See if _he_ cared about anything today…

But, if he didn’t get up, Nathalie would probably stand at his door and knock, and then… probably, she’d find some way in if he didn’t respond, and then…

What would anyone even do if he just… _stopped_ responding entirely?

He grumbled, sitting up.

The problem was, he didn’t think he had it in him to completely stop responding, especially if his father got involved, and when he _started_ responding…

It wasn’t worth it.

He shut off the alarm, and with a minimum of noise, started putting his clothes for the day on.

He got the feeling today was going to be a long day.

Well… Nothing for it, was there.

\--

Marinette sat down at her seat.

Her fingers tapped lightly against the wood.

In fact, it took her a few minutes to notice…

“Marinette?” said Alya, half curious, half concerned.

“Oh.  Hey, Alya.”

She frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

Marinette shook her head.  “Nothing.”

“Well,” said Alya, patiently, “we both know that’s a lie.”

She laughed, weakly.  “Well…”  She didn’t continue.

“C’mon,” she said, “hit me with it.  What’s going on?”

Marinette looked over and shook her head.  “Just… It was a _long day_ yesterday.”

Alya nodded.  “I guess it would’ve been.  Adrien turning out to be Chat Noir, and all.”

“But… _Is he, though?”_   Marinette turned, expression suddenly almost… Pleading?

Alya pulled back in surprise.  Adrien still wasn’t in the room.

“I mean… If that was really Adrien in the picture…”

“It was,” grumbled Marinette, with a displeased certainty.

“Then… How, exactly, could he be anybody else?  And, if it was just a joke, why would he bother covering his face?”

Marinette slid forward.

“Is it… The whole thing with Ladybug?” said Alya.

Marinette snorted.  “Not exactly.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Thanks for trying,” muttered Marinette.

So, Marinette wasn’t in the best mood, but…

Adrien seemed sleep deprived as he walked in, but that wasn’t anything _too_ strange.  The strange part was… Her eyes flicked between the two of them, and… Their eyes had definitely met for just a _second_ too long.

And then the eye-contact was broken, and it was as if it was any other day.

Okay…

This was… Workable.

Something was _clearly going on_ , but…  This was going to require a gentle touch.

Gentle touch wasn’t something she was good at, but for Marinette…  She could try.

The trick would be…

\--

It was strange.  Nino seemed… Nervous, as he sat down beside him.  He couldn’t muster the energy to _really_ care about it, but he turned to look at Nino, and there was a faint glimmer of curiosity.

Nino met his eye, and then looked away.

Strange.

Really strange.

But… The class was starting, and Adrien didn’t have the energy to be told off for talking in class, so he waited.

…

The class passed slowly, and they didn’t really talk about anything he didn’t know already, anyway.  He didn’t mind.  It gave him time to think.

The scarf…  He shouldn’t have been surprised.  Of course, his father wouldn’t have gone out and bought it himself; he’d never done that.  And, of course, would he _ever_ have made it himself?  Designed it?

He should have assumed… Besides, he’d seen enough of his father’s work; he should have known that _that_ wasn’t it.

And then he’d paraded it around without a clue.  Why Marinette hadn’t mentioned it… Well, he couldn’t really speak to it.  Maybe she’d thought he wouldn’t believe it.  Maybe he really wouldn’t have.

But… That had over a year ago.  At this point, he was _mostly_ surprised that they even remembered it.

No, that…  Quietly, as the class was ending, he nodded his head from side to side, in a considering way.  As far as things went… It didn’t really matter that much.  A minor issue compared to… Everything else.

\--

Marinette was in a state of gentle, persistent frustration as her second class began.

It wasn’t _his_ fault.  Of _course_ it wasn’t.

But Adrien was clearly in a bad mood, and that alone weighed on her mind, and…

And how was she supposed to compare him to Chat Noir, when she couldn’t even compare him to what she knew of him?

She couldn’t.

The class went by, and…

Nothing.

\--

And then… Lunch.

Adrien was surprised at Nino’s unexpectedly insistent suggestion that he ask to stay and eat with his friends, but… It wasn’t like he was in any kind of mood to head home, right now.  He wasn’t sure he was up to his father trying to finish the conversation from last night.

Of course, if he was actually planning to, he doubted he’d even be _able_ to prevail on Nathalie.

Nevertheless, he gave it a shot, and, to his surprise…

For a second he thought she hadn’t heard him, and then she nodded simply, and he blinked.

He hadn’t expected it to be that easy.  Maybe this was her way of apologizing.

He wasn’t about to complain.

It was a comparatively warm April day, and it by Alya and Nino’s estimation, it was plenty warm to sit outside.

There was a silence as they sat down.

Adrien quietly and studiously set about getting his lunch out, but then…

He looked up, and saw Nino, looking at him, visibly concerned.

“You dudes alright?” he said.  _Plural?_   He looked over, and saw Marinette looking up, too.  “You seem kinda out of it.”

“Hm,” said Marinette, nodding.  “Didn’t sleep too well, last night.”

“Yeah, me neither,” said Adrien, “Father wanted to ask me about…” he shook his head, “nevermind.”

He caught Alya and Nino glancing at each other.

“What about you, Marinette?  Just couldn’t sleep?”

She shrugged.  “I was trying to figure something out, but… It just wasn’t making sense.”

“Something from the homework?” said Nino.

“Uh… No.  Kind of a personal thing, actually.”

“Ah.”

There was a long moment of silence, and then…

“Wow.  You guys really are _out of it,_ ” said Nino, and laughed almost nervously.

“Honestly…” said Alya, “I’m guessing if Nino and I stick around and keep talking, we’ll just make things worse, right?”

Marinette gave her an almost sharp look, and then seemed to slump.

Alya seemed to take that as acceptance.

“Alright, then, Nino?”

Nino shrugged, and stood.  “Let us know if you need anything, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” said Adrien.

\--

As they walked away, Marinette found herself questioning what _exactly_ they had intended to happen.

Surely Alya didn’t think this was some clever tactic to get them together.  No, surely, she would have mentioned it, if nothing else.

And Adrien was still as tired as she was.

“Well,” she said, “I guess this is lunch, now.”

He nodded.  “Just the two of us, sitting here like a couple of… dead fish.”

She laughed, weakly.  When she looked over, there was a tired smile on his face.

Of course he was tired.  Now that she thought about it, she should have known.

She wondered if he knew why _she_ was tired.

“So…” she said.  “Your father wanted to talk to you, huh?  It’s usually serious when he gets involved, right?”

He gave her an almost amused look.  “Yeah…  But, honestly, he just…” he shook his head, the smile not quite gone.  “He just wanted to ask about Ladybug.”

“Yeah…”

“Because, you know, Paris is a big city, and he thought it was strange that she kept having to save me so often.”

Marinette laughed.  “Kind of strange, I guess.”

“And, of course, there’s that one picture where she’s carrying me, and…” He laughed, softly.  “Well, tabloids are tabloids, you know how it is.  Better than most people, actually.”

“Do they still think we’re together?  I stopped getting photographers after the first few days.”

“I think they couldn’t find enough pictures to keep it interesting,” he said, “that, or… Father might have bribed them?” He shrugged.  “Honestly, I don’t know how well they take money.”

Marinette laughed.  “Right, I forgot, there’s a good reason why you’re in tabloids.”

“I think he’s curious.”

“About?”

He looked over, and for a second she thought he was going to say ‘you,’ but…  “Ladybug.”

“Oh.  I mean… I think a lot of people are.”

They sat in silence, for a long time.

Then, eventually, Adrien sighed.

“Marinette,” he said.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering…” he shook his head, “We kind of got off on the wrong foot when we first met.  You remember?”

“I remember.”

“I just wanted to say…” he sighed, as if regretting starting this conversation.  “I just wanted to say that if I’ve ever given you the impression that my opinion of you is anything less than that you’re an amazing person who deserves the best in the world, I’m sorry about that.”

Her face was going red, now.

“What… What prompted you to… Say that?”

“Ah…” he said, and shook his head, as if waking up, “Nothing.  Just… Something I thought I heard.  Made me realize I’d never said it out loud.”

So he had heard…?

“Something about… Me?”

“I don’t know,” he said, standing, a smile spreading across his face.  “Maybe, but it doesn’t change that it’s true.”

And there, for a second, she remembered a night, months ago.

A night on her balcony.

“Now!” he said, “I think I’m starting to wake up.  Lunch might be doing me some favors.”

She stood up, too.  “Right, and, _lunch,_ is helping me, too.  Now, I just _bet_ you Alya would be happy to hear that a couple of dead fish are up and kicking.”

“Flipping?” said Adrien.

She looked over, and _god,_ she could almost see it now; that same cheeky smile, the one when you wanted to see if a joke had landed.

And then she felt the red trying to push its way through, as she remembered who she was talking to.

She giggled.  “Alright, alright.  _Flipping.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Certainty at 80%.


	8. (1/2+1/2)+1/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien find their friends... And that's the first half of things.

Of course, the issue with telling Alya and Nino that their dead fish were up and flipping was… Finding them.  They’d walked away, and neither of them had had the presence of mind to actually watch them go.

They did a full circuit of the first floor, in the vain hope of finding them, but… no such luck.

They found Alya and Nino reclining in a currently out of use classroom, feet up on the desks like a pair of loose-cannon detectives luxuriating in their new office.

There was a long, long second, as they stared at each other.

Alya raised an eyebrow.

A few more seconds, and Adrien couldn’t quite contain the laugh, seeping out past his carefully blank expression.

And then Marinette laughed out loud, and the standoff was broken.

“And that’s another one for the books,” said Nino, reaching out a fist to Alya, who obligingly bumped hers against it.

“Okay, I’ve gotta ask, _‘why,’_ ” said Adrien, the laughter finally hitting him in earnest.

“I have a guess,” said Marinette, bent over, laughing.

Adrien looked over, and, after a few seconds, she recovered herself.

“And what _is_ your guess?” said Alya, as Marinette started walking over.

“Well,” said Marinette, “ _obviously_ you wanted to mess with people, but also…  do the two of you have the same app open on your phone right now?”

Alya and Nino looked over at each other.

Alya nodded her head to the side, more an admission than anything.

In unison, they turned their phones, to reveal identical game-start menus, with a small cartoon penguin running across it.

Marinette nodded, smiling.  “Still playing?”

Alya crossed her arms.  “Still fun.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit lost.”

Marinette shook her head.  “I swear, _everybody_ is playing that silly game.  It’s meant for kids, you realize?  That’s why the levels are all so similar.”

“Look, it’s a fun premise, and once you start paying attention, there’s actually a lot of variation!” said Alya.

“Besides, just ‘cause it’s meant for kids doesn’t mean older people can’t still have fun with it,” said Nino.

There was a single second’s pause, before, practically in unison, they agreed that, yes, there was no reason that things meant for kids couldn't be fun for older people.

“Anyway,” said Alya, “are you guys feeling better?”

“Yeah,” said Adrien, scratching the back of his neck a tad sheepishly, “sorry I wasn’t feeling sociable.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, dude,” said Nino, bringing his legs down from the desk.

“I’m assuming this was some kind of scheme?” said Marinette.

Alya shrugged. “Just a guess that leaving you alone would help.”

“Well…” said Adrien, “I guess it worked, because _I’m_ feeling better.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Alya, likewise bringing her legs down.

\--

Marinette was feeling better, too, and the relatively light atmosphere that they had for the rest of the school day was… nice.

A bit of her ease in speaking to Adrien drained away as her energy returned, but even so, she couldn’t help feeling almost _proud_ of how well she spoke to him.

On the other hand…

As she sat in her room, silently sewing on a project (she didn’t have the mental space for _actual designing_ right now), she was silently mulling over the day.

 _This was ridiculous._ _Chat Noir, and Adrien Agreste had to be… What, the most different people in the world?_

_No.  But…_

_But what?_

_The matching appearances, of course.  The way both of them were rarely, but distressingly, earnest about their feelings.  Neither of them seemed to enjoy serious circumstances; Chat Noir, always joking, even at the worst possible moment, and Adrien, visibly uncomfortable with conflict… Though those weren’t quite the same, she supposed._

It was almost enough to make her want to go and visit Adrien again, and maybe…

Mm… Of course, if it went anything like last time, his house was _cursed,_ and she’d probably die outright.

What she _really_ needed was…

There was a knock at the skylight.

That… Would do.

She climbed onto her bed, and pushed the door open.

As she poked her head up, he was in the process of rapidly making for the edge as if-

“Planning to ding-dong-ditch me?” she said.

He froze, and then laughed, a touch nervously.  “No… Just… Realized I might have been waking you up.  You know, because you… Might have been tired.”

_Suspect, considering this morning._

“Actually, I’m feeling pretty good,” she said, climbing up, onto the roof.

“Oh, well… That’s good!” he said.

“So… What brings you by?  Just another one of your regularly scheduled visits?”

He laughed.  “I’ve only ever been here _twice._ ”

Mentally, she staggered slightly.  “I… suppose you have,” she said, “I don’t know, it feels like more often.”

“Hmm,” he said, “And if you count… Oh, Troublemaker, and, what was he called, Evillustrator?  That’s 4, I guess, although I don’t think I ever actually saw _you_ while Troublemaker was attacking.”

“No, you wouldn’t have… Although it’s still a kind of strange coincidence.”

“Definitely more often than I thought.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, but if that had been a hint, he was hiding it well.

There was a long silence, and she leaned over the railing.

He matched the motion.

“You know…” he said, after a long time.

“What?”

“I wasn’t supposed to hear it, but… Did you know you and Ladybug share a first name?”

Her expression froze like wax in a gentle smile.

“Really.”

“Really.”

“And…” she shouldn’t ask, she _shouldn’t_ ask, but…  “How did you find that out?”

He nodded his head, side to side, seeming to mull the question over.

Eventually, he shrugged.  “I’ve got my sources.”

“I see.”

“Well… It got me thinking about what else the two of you might have in common.”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me what you came up with.”

“I will… Your hair, of course… It’s just the same as hers.  I wouldn’t be surprised if you go to the same stylist.”

“Chat Noir, not everyone has a stylist.”

He blinked.  “Well… You know what I mean.”

“Anything else?”

“I swear, the two of you have the same smile, sometimes.  That’s a rare thing to match.”

“I didn’t know you’d seen me smile that often,” she said.

He turned his head and smiled at _her_ with a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite parse.

“Neither did-“ he shook his head.

“What?” she said.

His finger tapped on the railing, and he stared down at it, as if expecting some answer, and then, suddenly, he stopped.  “I was saying…” he shook his head, as if he’d regretted the words, “neither did I.”

He was staring determinedly down, now, as if intensely wishing he was somewhere else.

The image was unexpectedly painful, especially from someone normally so self-assured as Chat Noir.

There was an instant, _just_ an instant, where she was at a total loss, uncertain what she was supposed to do.

And then…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, that chapter title is because I referred to what happened the previous night as a 'double half-reveal,' because both of them are half sure that they know, and that the other one knows, and also knows that they know.  
> One extra half has been added.


	9. And then...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette helps Chat Noir feel a bit better.  
> Chat Noir makes Marinette's mood a few thousand times worse.

“You remind me of someone, too,” she said, turning.  Her voice, to her own surprise, didn’t shake.

He looked up.

“What?”

She faltered, slightly, but, _what did she have to be afraid of?_

“I said…” she said, “ _you remind me of someone, too._ ”

That expression, the one that had felt like a knife, was gone, at least.  His expression was confused, and… Hopeful?

“Who?”

“Oh, just…” she said, “A boy, I go to school with.”

“Anyone I’d know?”

She smiled, slightly, “I’d hope so… You did submit a picture of him to the Ladyblog.”

His face was expressionless, and she had the feeling it was on purpose.

“Right… Him.”

“Adrien?” she said, unsure whether she was making sure he knew, or… Well, making sure he was paying attention.

He didn’t respond.

“Of course… He’s got the matching hair, too.  Yours is a bit messed up, but the exact same color.”

He nodded, slowly.

“And, the eyes, too.”

“I didn’t realize you’d had opportunity to stare into my eyes.”

She gave him a look, recognizing much the same thing she’d told him.  “Maybe you just forgot it,” she said, “Anyway…  There’s more.”

“There’s something in the way you talk.  I realized that some of the jokes he tells… Sound just like yours.  The last time I saw him on the catwalk, too… He struts just like you, when he’s in the mood to.”

“I prefer to think of it as _striding._   Strutting is such an… _Arrogant_ word.”

She laughed, and turned her whole body, forearm supporting her on the railing.  “How about this.  He walks like he’s got nine lives.”

Chat Noir snorted.  “I might have to steal that.”

“And I’ll lend it,” she said, “just make sure your photographer doesn’t start using it without giving me royalties.”

“Oh I won’t.  I know _exactly_ how much you hate it when your ideas are stolen.  Remember the hat?”

“I certainly do,” she said, “believe me, if I’d known you’d been allergic to feathers…”

“I wouldn’t change it for-

Chat Noir froze, and then, blinked.

His lips moved, slowly.

“Did you just…?”  He laughed.  “You’re too good at this, Marinette.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had practice.”

The laugh bubbled up unstoppably.  “Well, as we both know, I’m better than you at absolutely everything.”

He raised his eyebrows.  “Oh, is that so?”  He leaned in close.  “And what if I told you I could do something well enough to leave you unable to breathe?  Maybe even so well you couldn’t stand?”

“I’d tell you that I’d give just as good as I got,” she said, smiling, not moving an inch.

His head tilted slightly, expression shifting to a shrewd, searching look.  He seemed to be rapidly considering something.

“Well,” he said, suddenly decided.  “Clearly, I _can’t_ fail, can I!  Between the two of us, only one of us lands on their feet.”

“Strong words,” she said, still waiting, “but usually, if someone is stalling, it means they’re scared to fail.”

He nodded, sagely, “and so many of my fails are absolutely _Cataclysmic.”_

Her head mirrored the nod, but she was starting to get a _little_ confused.  “I see, and… Where are you going with this?”

He winked, “The word you’re looking for isn’t ‘this,’ it’s ‘me,’ and, hopefully, on a date sometime?”

She laughed, slightly, “Chat Noir, we both know cheesy pickup-lines don’t take my breath away.”

“Oh, but in my contract, being good at cheesy pickup lines is practically the top clause!” he said, “right below,” he wiggled his fingers at her, “my claws.”

“Aha,” she said, the sound slightly wobbly as she let out a mostly confused laugh.  “I see.”

“The claws clause, if you will.”

“ _Wait,”_ she said, finally getting it, “Chat Noir, are you trying to… _pun_ me to death?”

He gave her an earnest look.  “Yes…” he stared into her eyes.  A second stretched out.  “You will become the pundead.”

She snorted with laughter.  “ _Really?  This is what you meant by ‘unable to breathe?’  ‘Can’t stand?’”_

“I mean…” he said, “If you don’t want the puns… We can just Chat.”

“Oh _can_ we,” she said.

“Absolutely,” he said, “It’s _way_ easier than trying to Ladybug.”

“A _ha,_ ” she said, “well, you what’s easier than dealing with _this?_ Getting Akumatized by Hawkmoth.  Maybe I’ll just bring down Paris if you keep this up.”

“And if it happens, I’ll accept it as Pun-ishment for my actions.”

“I swear, you are _physically_ incapable of taking things seriously,” she said, turning away, shaking her head.  “You come up that close, talking about ‘Can’t breathe,’ and then you break out the puns!?  And don’t even _pretend_ you didn’t want me to think you meant-

She was spun around, almost before she realized what was happening, and his mouth was on hers…

\--

Seconds passed, and he was pretty sure he was about to pass out, but judging by how red her face was as he pulled away, so was she.

“ _Aahh,”_ she said, with all the eloquence of… Well, someone who couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t have stopped smiling if he’d wanted to, but the grin on his face wasn’t exactly ‘loving’ right now, as much as that was part of what he was feeling.  No, his smiling was more…  Well, _impish._

“I was just _Spotting_ my opening,” he said, “You know it would have _Bugged_ me forever if I’d gotten it wrong.”

The dazed, flustered look on her face, beautiful as it was, was matched by the absolutely _adorable_ rage that welled up behind it.  Her mouth moved, silently, as she _visibly_ processed what he’d done.

“Cat’s got your tongue?”

“ _I-  You!  You…”_ She stammered wildly, and…

He put his arms up to shield himself from her suddenly flailing arms, laughing.

“I _swear_ , Chat Noir, I’m supposed to have the _lucky_ Miraculous, so why did I have the _utter_ misfortune to fall in love with _you_ of all people?”

“ _Because…_ ” he said, “While you weren’t looking, I stole the Charm out of your Lucky Charm.”

“That’s not how that works!”

“No?  Well maybe I stole your heart instead,” he said, knowing he’d be lucky if he survived the night at this rate, “All I’m saying is, _I’m a Cat burglar, no no no don’t-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exit, off Balcony, pursued by Marinette.
> 
> Honestly, this is slated to be the end of the story. Anything past this would be more of an epilogue, or an after credits scene, so I'm leaving it here, marking it complete, unless inspiration or peer-pressure strike. As always, thank you all for your comments, kudos, and views.
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, I'd recommend 'Seven Minutes in... Combat?' which absolutely falls under the made-up genre of 'Clusterfluff,' that I've applied to this story. Or, if you've already read that one, too, you might consider subscribing, so you'll be notified next time I put something similar out. (Or... Something not similar, but I'm about 80% typecast on fluff of one kind or another, so your odds are excellent)
> 
> And, finally...  
> The Fool of the Day is... Both of them.
> 
> It's both of them.


End file.
